A Quiet Little House
by TheGreatPeanutCar
Summary: John and Karkat buy a very special house. humanstuck (may contain violence later on)
1. Chapter 1: Fresh Start

"Aren't these curtains just beautiful? Don't they just brighten up the whole room?" the realtor, Nepeta, exclaimed. Karkat didn't think they brightened the room at all. The room itself was very bland, nothing but brown walls, brown couches, a brown carpet, it was a clusterfuck of different shades of brown. In general, the whole house gave off a slightly unpleasant vibe. He chose to keep this to himself, however, as he had made an agreement with his friend, John.

Said friend was standing just to the right, actually paying attention to what the woman was saying. Karkat looked at him. His eyes seemed to glow with excitement, as if Nepeta's inane rambling actually interested him at all. He couldn't say for sure, but he knew that no matter what she said, John would keep on listening. Karkat wished he could be a listener like John, to sit down and hear what someone said before yelling and screaming and hissing at everyone. It was a weakness he didn't ask for and didn't ever need, but that was how the world worked. At least, it worked that way for him.

"So, what do you think?" John said, startling Karkat out of his thoughts. "Isn't it just what we needed?" Karkat thought about it. The house was weird, old, and ugly. It was also bigger and way cheaper than the other houses.

"Actually, there's something I have to tell you before you make your decision." Nepeta interrupted. "The previous owners of this house... well, they... didn't do so hot." she paused, looking down to the floor before continuing, "They were found in the basement."

Karkat looked up at John angrily.

"W-well, if it's just an unpleasant history, there's not really any real reason we shouldn't buy this place." said John. As he said this he leaned closer to Karkat and gave the other man a pleading look. That was all it took.

"Okay, fine," said Karkat. John cheered. Karkat hoped they wouldn't regret this. Meanwhile the house sat silently, staring at the new occupants.

The basement door opened, then closed.

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**AN: my first fanfiction, please give feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2: Box of Memories

As you may know, the act of unpacking and actually moving into a house isn't very fun. Both John and Karkat were horrible at remembering to unpack. Because of this, most of the boxes not containing the essentials were thrown down into the basement, and quite literally in this case. The basement light didn't work, and Karkat wasn't too fond of the dark. Then again, he wasn't too fond of the house in general, so maybe it fit.

He stood on the top step, throwing down the boxes of old books and clothes and other things neither man really cared about. John wouldn't be happy about that, but it wasn't like he had anything fragile in them...

The last box rattled as he picked it up. He pressed his ear against it and shook it. It rattled again. He opened the flaps and looked inside.

The box had many things, pictures, newspapers, et cetera, but what drew his attention first was the snow globe. It served to remind him of the "wonderful" time his sixth grade class went on a field trip to the local zoo and he ended up getting sick. He'd spent the rest of the day puking his guts out until he was sent home. John had given him the snow globe to "make up for his loss." Or something. There were also a few pictures.

He looked through them. Most weren't very notable, but a few were worth looking at. There were pictures of him standing next to his close friend, Kanaya. She was smiling, but he wasn't, as was the usual in pictures of him. There was a picture of all his friends standing in a group. Once again, no smile from Karkat. Dave wasn't smiling either, but Dave was just an asshole.

Karkat looked through the box to make sure there was nothing else, and he saw another picture he hadn't noticed. It was taken by Rose, he remembered, and it showed him next to John. It was taken at the senior prom.

Karkat checked to make sure there were no more fragile items in the box, and then he threw it down the basement steps as hard as he could. The snow globe went on the mantel.

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	3. Chapter 3: American Ham Story

On the second day of living in the house, John and Karkat had their first encounter with a neighbor. It was John's turn to make breakfast, so Karkat had been sitting at the breakfast table trying not to fall asleep. He'd been woken up by a loud and persistent scratching. He wondered if the neighbors had any pets. He hoped it wasn't rats. He didn't need that shit right now.

A loud knock sounded from the back door, interrupting his thoughts. John walked over to the door and opened it, revealing a small boy who looked to be about fifteen or sixteen holding a box in his hands. The boy carried himself in a way that suggested not just the regular nervousness a boy might face from meeting the new neighbors, but actual _fear_.

"Uhh, hello. My name's, um, Tavros." The boy spoke in a faltering manner, and seemed to have a special talent for saying "uhh" and "um" and other words beginning with the letter "U." He held the box out to them.

"My m-mother sent you this. She c-can't get around very well these days."

John opened the box. There was, of all things, a ham, wrapped in plastic wrap. "Well... thank you, Tavros. Can you tell your mother thank you for me?"

"O-okay." John began to close the door, but the boy stopped him. "Good luck living here, sir," he said before walking away.

John shut the door and walked back to the stove. "The neighbors seem nice," he said.

"He seemed more _weird _than nice," said Karkat. "And why was he so nervous around here?"

"It most likely has to do with the history of this place. I mean, he's just a kid. Besides, how bad could he be? He gave us ham!"

"How the hell did you ever convince me to live here?"

"I really don't know. Probably magic.

The ham was put away, and they ate breakfast in a somewhat comfortable silence.

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	4. Chapter 4: Voices

"Good night, Karkat," said John, walking to his room. Karkat didn't bother to say anything; he was too tired to even think at this point. He'd had a rough first night, but he was destined to get a good sleep in this house.

Halfway through the night, he awoke when he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs. He sat up and began to listen intently. He could hear, faintly, a conversation. He was too scared to leave the room, but he thought he recognized some of what they said. They spoke faintly enough to barely be heard, but there was still something familiar...

"_I just don't... we... know?_

_"...understand..."_

_"...sorry... better for... just..._"

Karkat covered his ears and tried to go back to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs and found the fridge door open. Food had been pulled out and strewn about the kitchen. Scared, he called John downstairs.

"What's wrong?" asked John, as if he couldn't see the huge mess.

Karkat turned around, confused, and was met with a clean kitchen. The fridge door was closed. Inside, the food was exactly where it had been before. Karkat stared for several seconds before he heard John whispering something before moving back to the stairs.

"John? Wait a min-" John was already to the top of the staircase, and soon Karkat heard him getting ready.

Karkat couldn't explain what just happened. He guessed it could have been lack of sleep. This _was_ the second night in a row where he'd woken up in the middle of the night.

John acted coldly the rest of the morning. Karkat could hardly squeeze a conversation out of him. He would respond with nothing more than a grunt as he ate. Fortunately, he became more normal as the day went on. By the middle of the day, he seemed fine, cracking lame jokes like always. Karkat was thankful for this, but still felt a need to talk about something.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"Were you in the kitchen last night?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason."

They sat in an awkward silence until John spoke up.

"What was going on with you and the fridge earlier today?"

"I don't know. I thought I saw something."

Later, they would discover that the leftover ham from last night was missing. Karkat wondered what happened to it as he shut the basement door for the third time on that day. He wished John would stop leaving it open.


	5. Chapter 5: Dave

"I'm going into town today," said Karkat. "Want me to get you anything?"

"Not really," John replied.

"Alright, then. I won't be long."

Karkat was glad that he had an excuse to get out of the house. It had seemed so nice before they actually owned it, but they'd lived there for a week now and it was trying his patience. John didn't seem to notice, but things were only getting weirder and weirder. He was having nightmares, he heard scratching noises every night, that damned basement door would not stay closed, and Tavros kept sending them food every day (which John always ate before Karkat could get to it).

He took a seat next to some guy in shades and ate his lunch. The guy was just like any other douche you might see in New York or LA or Chicago, except that he was so still that Karkat thought he might have been dead.

Karkat had just finished his sandwich and was about to stand up when the man spoke.

"Hey, I heard you moved into the Slaughterhouse."

"What?" Karkat was startled by this man and perturbed by how he referred to the place.

"Oh, it's just what people in this town call it. A lot of people have died there."

There was a silence that made Karkat feel quite uncomfortable. He sensed that the man was about to say something very bad.

"I lived there when I was a kid." Fuck.

"Did you hear about the previous owners?" the man continued and Karkat nodded, thinking of the realtor's story. "They were my parents."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything to _me_. Just promise me that you and your boyfriend leave that place while you still can."

"He's not my boyfriend, he's just my roommate," Karkat said with a bit of sourness in his voice.

"I don't care, just get out of there. It's dangerous."

"Fine, whatever."

The man stood up suddenly and was about to leave. "The name's Dave, if you were wondering."

The man gave Karkat his phone number and left

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John seemed a little irritated when Karkat came home.

"I have food," Karkat said, setting it on the counter and walking to the fridge.

"The food's all gone," said John. "It was nice of you to bring more, I guess."

Karkat noticed that John had dark circles under his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," John mumbled his response.

Karkat suddenly noticed a spot of blood on John's shirt. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Yeah, I was chopping up an apple."

"Clumsy little shit," Karkat joked. "What were you cutting up apples for, anyway? I was out already getting food."

Then, for some reason, John blew up. "Maybe I was hungry, since you ate all our food!" He got up and walked out of the room, leaving Karkat to sit in the kitchen, confused.


End file.
